A Filthy Mudblood
by frances janvier
Summary: QLFC Finals Round 1 - Arrows - Seeker - An italicized word or phrase for emphasis AND a simile, using the OTP of TheRottenGirl (Dramione)


**Arrows - Seeker - Finals Round 1 -** An italicized word or phrase for emphasis AND a simile. Using the OTP of TheRottenGirl (Dramione).

 **Thanks to Debs and Jas for betaing.**

* * *

"You're staring again, Draco," Pansy said, kicking him in the shin underneath the Potions table. "We have to finish brewing our potion, and since you're the expert at this table, we can't have you zoning out yet again. Draco? Did you hear me, Draco? Draco!"

Draco was jerked out of his thoughts suddenly, and he quickly pulled his gaze back to his friends. He hadn't heard exactly what Pansy had said, but he could tell from her glare what it was. He mumbled an apology and then got straight back to work stirring the potion.

It was extremely hard not to stare at Hermione Granger, the most talented witch of their grade, even if she was a filthy _Mudblood_. She was as smart as most of the teachers at Hogwarts, to tell the truth. More often than not, Draco had resisted the urge to reach out and touch her bouncy brown curls.

He constantly wished that he could take the place of her idiot friends Harry and Ron. They didn't know anything, and they constantly got Hermione into trouble when really, it wasn't her fault at all. Draco could do so much better than the both of them combined, but Hermione would always hate Draco no matter what because he was just another Slytherin bully in her eyes.

Before Pansy could scold him yet again, he turned back to the potion and tried as hard as he could to keep the Mudblood out of his thoughts.

He failed, of course.

* * *

Before Hermione and her "friends" could get too far across the courtyard, Draco stalked up to intersect them with Crabbe and Goyle at his back.

"Well, well, well, who do we have here?" Draco asked, accentuating his scowl with each word. "There's the Chosen One again, prancing around Hogwarts just like his dead father. And there's another one of the weasels. Your family is just like a plague. Nobody wants you around."

The Golden Trio was simultaneously shaking in anger. "Come on, Harry and Ron, let's just go. Don't let him bother you. He's just trying to get under your skin," Hermione said, starting to leave.

 _Wait, no, don't go!_ Quickly, Draco brainstormed anything that he could think of to stop Hermione from leaving.

"And here's the filthy Mudblood, who thinks that she's so smart and talented and beautiful and just walks around Hogwarts all day looking all 'pretty' with her bushy hair and 'beautiful eyes'—"

It couldn't be happening. Draco must be dreaming. He pinched himself but found himself to be in reality, still. If he was in reality, however, then whose lips were on his own? Who was kissing him so beautifully? Surely it couldn't be Hermione Granger, the filthy Mudblood, because that kiss had only ever happened in his dreams.

Hermione pulled away and stared at him with an unreadable look in her eyes. "You still don't understand. Of course. Come on, let's go," she said, and she and her "friends" walked away.

Draco could only stare at her retreating back, not fully processing what had just happened. He realized that his jaw was still awkwardly dropped, but didn't do anything about it. Slowly, as if he were being possessed, Draco walked back to the dungeons.

* * *

It was about an hour later when the shock fully set in for Draco.

 _Hermione Granger, the brightest and most beautiful witch of our age, just kissed me. And I just let her walk away._

Curled up on his bed in the boys' dormitories, Draco blinked back tears. There were definitely no tears coming to his eyes, though, because Draco was a Slytherin, and Slytherins never cry.

 _Why would Hermione kiss me? She hated me. She must still hate me now. She must think I still hate her. But I don't hate her. But do I?_

Oh Merlin, his life was a mess.

The door creaked open, and Pansy instantly sashayed up to his bed. The rule about girls being able to enter the boys' dormitories was so stupid, and he cursed it every single day.

"What the bloody hell are you lamenting about, Draco?" Pansy asked, staring at him sternly. "The love of your life just full-on kissed you, and you're sitting here moaning about it? I'll never understand boys."

Draco looked her in the eye. "But Pansy, she thinks that I despise her and that I'm just another bully. It was probably just a stupid dare, anyway—"

"Draco Malfoy, shut your mouth right this instant. She kissed you, so that means she likes you, idiot. Go talk to her about, or I'll hex you both into next Tuesday."

Pansy left him there exactly as he was before.

* * *

The next day, after Potions class, Draco grabbed onto Hermione's wrist before she could take off yet again. "Hermione. Can we talk?"

"No, we don't have to. I get it, you hate me, I'm just a filthy Mudblood," Hermione said, trying to twist out of his grip. But Draco was too strong, and so he dragged her to just outside the classroom. Harry and Ron were staring quizzically at the two of them, but Hermione waved them off. "Go ahead, I'll meet you there," she called out.

"Why are we even having this talk, anyway? Are you just going to harass me again? We're enemies, Draco, and we'll never work out—"

Draco cut her off with a quick kiss on the lips. He hesitantly looked her in the eyes again. "Now do you understand? I love you, Hermione. I always have."

It was Hermione this time who didn't know what to say. "I… I… I love you too, Draco," she said, pulling him into another, more passionate kiss.

Maybe she wasn't such a filthy Mudblood after all.


End file.
